


My Body Is A Cage

by threerings



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-23
Updated: 2007-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threerings/pseuds/threerings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Rose gave another long-suffering sigh. Trust the Doctor to bring her to a world where the air was an aphrodisiac. To her, at least, though apparently not to him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Body Is A Cage

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: sex-pollen, explicit sexual content, not a romantic or happy ending  
> For something I came up with on the spur of the moment, this fic has been one of my hardest to edit. Huge thanks go to miladyhawke for telling me what I got right and what I got wrong. This is set sometime during S2. It's neither fluffy nor happy, but it does have porn! I think I need to go read some fluff now. Please let me know what you think.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. No. Nopeity. Not joking. They just secrete this pheromone-type stuff. Nice folks, though."

"Obviously. That would be why they've locked us up in here, then?"

"Well, that. That's just a little bit of a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?"

"Yeah. See, I forgot that humans are forbidden on Begeillitous 9. Due to the strength of the human physiological response to the Beguillitian pheromones."

"Forgot?"

"Ummm, yup. Sorry." The Doctor had the grace to look embarrassed at least. "But, I'll get it sorted soon enough. As soon as they bring the local magistrate or whomever, I'll get us right back on the TARDIS."

"Great. And until then we're stuck in this cell." Rose gestured at the four blank white walls before slumping down to rest on the floor.

"It would appear so, yes."

Rose gave another long-suffering sigh. Trust the Doctor to bring her to a world where the air was an aphrodisiac. To her, at least, though apparently not to him. Or, technically, she guessed it was the TARDIS' fault, since they had been intending to land somewhere else entirely. But as usual, she and the Doctor had rushed out to see the local colour. At least the pheromones explained why Rose had started feeling so, well, aroused soon after leaving the TARDIS. She hugged herself, trying to suppress the shivers spreading under her skin. Why did she get the feeling this was only going to get worse?

The Doctor, meanwhile, was prowling the walls of their holding cell, running his hands across them, seemingly fascinated. "Mmm. Rose?"

"What?" snapped Rose, more harshly than she had intended. Ok, so it was getting to her. She was starting to have trouble keeping her mind on anything besides sex, in particular, the idea of sex with the Doctor. Those clever hands running across her….Damnit. Rose looked up to find the Doctor staring at her with a worried look.

"Umm, Rose, you wouldn't by any chance be feeling any…effects from those pheromones, would you?"

The Doctor's expression was part kindly concern and part anxious fear and Rose couldn't do anything for a moment but stare at him dumbfounded. "Well last I checked I was human, so…yeah."

"Oh." The Doctor began patting the pockets of his suit as if the solution would be found there. "Right. I just assumed they put us in here because it would shield us. Or you, specifically. I guess…not," he ended while scratching idly at his neck.

"Well, can't you just sonic us out?"

"No, unfortunately, the door doesn't have a lock, just a bloody great bar blocking it. I'm sorry."

Rose sent him another glare of exasperation before shifting her eyes back to the floor. If she focused hard enough on being angry with him, maybe she could keep herself from thinking about shagging him. Or not. Her mind was flooded with images of herself and the Doctor, twisted into one position after the other, on the floor, against the wall. This was unbearable.

Rose paced briskly along one wall, shifting her path anytime it threatened to take her too near the Doctor. "So how much longer do we have to wait here?"

The Doctor had settled himself against the wall, seemingly comfortable on the hard floor. "I shouldn't think more than, say, 10 minutes? Should be fine. Holding out alright?" Rose gave him a glare before settling herself on the floor as well. Ten minutes. She could handle ten minutes. How much worse could it get, anyhow?

~~

After another half-hour had passed, Rose had discovered that she could just bear the sensations if she sat against the wall with her knees pulled into her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She kept her eyes closed so she didn't have to see the Doctor sitting against the opposite wall, watching her. If she kept her legs pressed very tightly against her and her eyes tightly closed, she thought she could bear it. The shivers were now multiple spasms that made her clench her arms tighter and grind her teeth. Her breath was coming faster and faster and she knew she was nearly panting. She did her best to keep the images in her mind generic: a hand, a mouth, a cock. Not his hands, his lips, his cock. She had done so well at blocking out her companion that when a hand brushed her shoulder she cried out.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed through her teeth. The Doctor backed away slightly, hands in front of him.

"Okay. I won't. Not if you don't want me too. I promise."

Rose had broken her position and the tremors shook her body back and forth. She gazed at him for a moment before lowering her head and rolling onto her side. From her fetal position on the floor she moaned, voice cracking with defeat, "I want you to. I do. Oh, I want you to touch me so much." And she began to sob.

"Shh." The Doctor's hand stroked the curve of her hip, causing a spasm that shook her whole body. He abruptly moved his hand away, surprised by the strength of her reaction. "Rose. You have to hold on. You can fight it. I know you can."

Rose was still lying on her side, rocking back and forth and moaning softly. "What do you think I'm trying to do! I can't! I don't know how much longer I can…" She broke off and gave a short scream of frustration before sitting up suddenly to face him. "Look. If we don't get out of here soon, and I mean right fucking now, I'm not going to be able to control this. Or stop myself." She tried to hold the Doctor's gaze but found her eyes moving down his body, admiring, her hands reaching out to touch him before she pulled them back roughly. She had clenched her hands into fists and pressed them to her eyes. The Doctor's hands gently grasped her wrists and pulled them away from her face before forcing her hands open. Rose watched his face move from concern to alarm as he examined her hands. She looked down to find her nails had cut into her palms without her even being aware of it. Suddenly the Doctor dropped her hands and leapt up.

He crossed their cell with two bounds and started pounding on the door with his fists. "Now listen up, you. You have to let us out of here now! She's going mad and she's going to hurt herself unless you let us go back to my ship right now! Is anyone there? Do you even remember that we're stuck here?" The Doctor's bellows produced no reaction.

He turned back to Rose where she was crouched. He let out a long breath before slowly making his way towards her. Rose looked up at him. She saw determination in his face, pity and fear and love, too.

"I can help you." His voice was soothing, low and resolved. He knelt beside her and placed a gentle hand on her knee. His hand continued down, straightening her tensed leg. She shook her head, once, tears coming to her eyes. "Let me help you," he repeated.

Rose stopped fighting it. The Doctor had both hands on her now, stretching out her limbs so that she was lying flat on her back. His hands massaged the muscles of her thighs which had been so tightly clenched. The feeling of his hands on her forced a moan from her mouth. Her hips rose, out of her control. She felt the Doctor's hands at the button of her jeans. She was past caring about the rightness of any of this.

He was touching her, and she wanted to grab him, climb onto him and take him. She bit her lip to stop herself. Her hands were clenched and starting to reach for him, so she forced them underneath her. She sat on her hands to stop herself reaching for him. Meanwhile, the Doctor had continued to undo her jeans and was pushing them and her pants down her legs. Her eyes opened as the air touched her stomach, but she immediately forced her eyes closed again. Her senses were already nearly overloaded from the tactile input, she couldn't handle having her eyes open as well.

Rose focused on the pain in her wrists and hands from having her weight on them. By doing this she could almost prevent her whole body jumping with every touch of the Doctor's hands on her skin. He had removed her jeans, forcing her trainers off as he did so. For a moment, she lost the feel of his hands on her and she moaned. Then she felt his fingers at the top of her slit, one finger pressing deeper, her legs automatically parting to give him access. He wasted no time with light touches or teasing. His fingers were sliding through the wetness, pressing at her folds, rubbing.

Rose was barely aware of the noises she was making. She heard them as if from far away, a collection of hisses, moans, caught breaths, whimpers, sobs, and pleading. The movements of her body, the thrusting of her hips were out of her control. Her awareness had sunk to the points of contact between his hands and her body, and even then she couldn't have said what he was doing, only that it sent shocks of pleasure through her.

Every muscle was tensed. Rose didn't know if she was coming, or if she had already come, or if her orgasm was only now building. She did know when he pressed two fingers into her. Her eyes flew open and she caught a freeze-frame images of the Doctor seated next to her hips, an expression of concentration on his face as he followed the actions of his hands with his eyes. Rose forced her eyes closed again and attempted to catch her breath. Two hands now, one inside and one rubbing at her clit. Her breath came in shuddering gasps mixed with cries, half formed words: yeah, oh, please, god, yes, Doctor. And then she seemed to find her voice, and her cries were full-throated, sounding animalistic to her own ears, deep cries beyond her control. It was only the sound of her own screams that told her this was it, she was coming. Her body was wrapped in pleasure, in the pain of straining muscles, in the heat of release. It went on and on and Rose thought she might not be able to bear it. There was no slowing of the sensation, no end to the waves and the spasms. Finally, the hands were taken away and Rose collapsed back to the ground, still shaking, still thrusting, still moaning.

Eventually, her breathing slowed, her hips stilled, and her muscles relaxed. Her eyes were still closed, her hair plastered across her face with sweat. Rose brought her hand to her eyes, brushing aside the hair and covering her face as she tried to bring her thoughts together from the fragments into which they had shattered. She sensed the Doctor to her right and felt his gaze on her. She forced herself to move her hands away from her face, up into her hair and meet his eyes.

She couldn't read the expression on his face, in his eyes. Her brain wasn't making those sorts of connections. All she could do was hold his gaze, still panting openmouthed. She felt sad, and sorry, and elated, and thought maybe he looked just the slightest bit…broken. The Doctor was not moving, seated serenely, his hand lightly resting on the floor in front of him. She looked at those hands for a moment or for a long time. And then without knowing she was going to do it she sat up and moved to him. She kissed him then and he returned the kiss. Their lips met and his arms came up to hold her against him.

As her tongue brushed his, she reached between them, feeling his chest through the layers of his clothing. Her hand brushed his rumpled suit and she reached down to feel his erection. As her hand closed around that hardness, he broke their kiss.

"No," he said, pushing her back gently, but his voice was cold. He caught her gaze and held it. "No," he repeated. Final.

Rose looked into his eyes, desperate, not understanding his rejection. She saw his resolution and lowered her eyes. She nodded, shivering again.

The Doctor's expression softened into a wordless apology. He gently pressed her back down to the floor. His hands traveled down her body, over her breasts still bound by her bra and T-shirt, over her bare stomach, and across her hip to her thighs. He spread her thighs open wide before bending slowly to place a kiss on the inside of her right thigh. Rose watched him the whole time, the fire and the shudders building back up inside of her. The Doctor shifted his body to lie between her legs, looking up at her one last time before lowering his mouth to her.

Rose had to close her eyes then, as the sensation overwhelmed her again. She was pulled back into that breathless, tensed, and desperate place. He licked and sucked and pulled at her flesh and she moaned and gasped and screamed again. She didn't know how long it was before she sunk into blackness and slept.

~~

When Rose wakes up she is on the TARDIS, in her own bed, and every muscle in her body is sore. She stares at the ceiling of her bedroom, recalling all she can of their time on Begeillitous 9. She notices that she is naked and imagines that the Doctor must have removed the rest of her clothes after he managed to get them back to the ship.

Rose sighs. She knows she should probably get up, shower, and find the Doctor. But for the life of her she can't think of what she could possibly say.

In her mind, the scenes replay themselves on a loop. The breathtaking sight of the Doctor lying between her thighs, his hands on her, their kiss. His voice when he said, "No." Rose rolls back over, hugs her arms to her chest and tries to force herself back to sleep. 'The Doctor is good at pretending things never happened,' she tells herself, 'Guess I'll just have to learn.'

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song of the same name by Arcade Fire: "My body is a cage that keeps me from dancing with the one I love..." Coming up with a title was hard.
> 
> Also, no, I'm not writing a sequel or companion piece to this. It stands alone.


End file.
